


Hands

by Traviosita9124



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daydreaming, Drabble, F/M, Fantasy, potentially unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma finds herself distracted and lost in thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

She wasn’t sure when it happened, but Jemma Simmons had somehow fallen in love with her partner’s hands.

 

They were so expressive, almost more expressive than his face was at times.

 

When he was nervous, they tensed up, claws wound into the fabric of his jumper right below his ribs, and would not release until the stressor had passed.

 

When he was lost in thought, they kept rhythm to his thinking, a slow, steady pace as he drummed his fingers against his workbench while he was mulling over an idea, a faster tap-tap-tap right before he solved the trickiest part of the problem.

 

His hands reminded her of birds in spring when he played the piano. It had been so long ago, but when they were at the Academy, they had developed a peculiar habit. Whenever they were stressed beyond reason and could not come up with a solution, they crept into the student lounge of their dormitory late at night, and sidled up to the beat up piano hidden in the far corner. Fitz had had lessons as a child, and had maintained his rather impressive skill.

 

So, his fingers danced across the keys, lithe and confident in their movements, and she sang softly with his melodies, the tension draining off them bit by bit. They were always able to go back and work past their previous trouble, without fail, after making good use of that piano.

 

But it was his hands at work that got her, made her stomach clench and her cheeks burn as desire pooled in her belly.

 

His hands around a well-engineered piece of equipment were a thing of beauty. He held it gently, fingers ghosting across the surface, as he took it apart, piece by piece and learned its secrets. They were the hands of a lover, and a man well content.

 

The thought made her shiver, and she wondered if he would hold her the same way, gently caressing her neck and shoulders after a long day in the laboratory, only to kneed into the flesh of her back to ease her stress before skipping lower, to trace her curves from breast to hip as they danced into the space between her thighs to find exactly what he did to her.

 

A knock at her door startled her out of her reverie, and she nearly fell out of her bunk trying to put herself back in order.

 

“Jemma! C’mon, we’re needed a’ the Hub. Somethin’ abou’ new prototypes.”

 

She slumped against her bunk, flushed and frustrated.

 

“Just a minute, Fitz!”

 

She took a deep breath, bracing herself. It would be hard, standing next to him for the next four hours as he played with new toys.

 

But then, a small grin broke across her face. At least there’d be plenty for her to look at, too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Quick little drabble I wrote when we all realized just how lovely Fitz' hands were. I'm betting Jemma would be a fan, too.


End file.
